_M'Closky._ O, how d'ye do, sir? [_Offers hand,_ George _bows coldly,_ R. C.] [_aside._] A puppy, if he brings any of his European airs here we'll fix him.--[_Aloud._] Zoe, tell Pete to give my mare a feed, will ye? _George._ [_Angrily._] Sir. _M'Closky._ Hillo! did I tread on ye? _Mrs. P._ What is the matter with George? _Zoe._ [_Takes fan from_ Minnie.] Go, Minnie, tell Pete; run! [_Exit_ Minnie, R. _Mrs. P._ Grace, attend to Mr. M'Closky. _M'Closky._ A julep, gal, that's my breakfast, and a bit of cheese, _George._ [_Aside to_ Mrs. Peyton.] How can you ask that vulgar ruffian to your table? _Mrs. P._ Hospitality in Europe is a courtesy; here, it is an obligation. We tender food to a stranger, not because he is a gentleman, but because he is hungry. _George._ Aunt, I will take my rifle down to the Atchafalaya. Paul has promised me a bear and a deer or two. I see my little Nimrod yonder, with his Indian companion. Excuse me ladies. Ho! Paul! [_Enters house._] _Paul._ [_Outside._] I'ss, Mas'r George. _Enter_ Paul, R. U. E., _with_ Indian, _who goes up._ _Sunny._ It's a shame to allow that young cub to run over the Swamps and woods, hunting and fishing his life away instead of hoeing cane. _Mrs. P._ The child was a favorite of the judge, who encouraged his gambols. I couldn't bear to see him put to work. _George._ [_Returning with rifle._] Come, Paul, are you ready? _Paul._ I'ss, Mas'r George. O, golly! ain't that a pooty gun. _M'Closky._ See here, you imps; if I catch you, and your red skin yonder, gunning in my swamps, I'll give you rats, mind; them vagabonds, when the game's about, shoot my pigs. [_Exit_ George _into house._] _Paul._ You gib me rattan, Mas'r Clostry, but I guess you take a berry long stick to Wahnotee; ugh, he make bacon of you. _M'Closky._ Make bacon of me, you young whelp. Do you mean that I'm a pig? Hold on a bit. [_Seizes whip, and holds_ Paul.] _Zoe._ O, sir! don't, pray, don't. _M'Closky._ [_Slowly lowering his whip,_] Darn you, red skin, I'll pay you off some day, both of ye. [_Returns to table and drinks._] _Sunny._ That Indian is a nuisance. Why don't he return to his nation out West. _M'Closky._ He's too fond of thieving and whiskey. _Zoe._ No; Wahnotee is a gentle, honest creature, and remains here because he loves that boy with the tenderness of a woman. When Paul was taken down with the swamp fever the Indian sat outside the hut, and neither ate, slept, or spoke for five days, till the child could recognize and call him to his bedside. He who can love so well is honest--don't speak ill of poor Wahnotee. _Mrs. P._ Wahnotee, will you go back to your people. _Wahnotee._ Sleugh. _Paul._ He don't understand; he speaks a mash-up of Indian and Mexican. Wahnotee Patira na sepau assa wigiran. _Wahnotee._ Weal Omenee. _Paul._ Says he'll go if I'll go with him. He calls me Omenee, the Pigeon, and Miss Zoe is Ninemoosha, the Sweetheart. _Wahnotee._ [_Pointing to_ Zoe.] Ninemoosha.